


All The Times Matt Hated Musicals (And The One Time He Didn't)

by Too_many_ships_to_count



Category: South Park RPF
Genre: Does not follow timeline, Friendship, Gen, No Romance, Trey's POV
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-01
Updated: 2014-11-30
Packaged: 2018-02-27 16:15:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2699297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Too_many_ships_to_count/pseuds/Too_many_ships_to_count
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a completely goofy fic that was inspired by the interview where Trey said that he knew the musical Avenue Q was a good one when Matt didn't ask to leave at intermission.</p>
<p>Trey's POV</p>
<p>There really is no coherent timeline here. The only restriction is its before they decided to write Book Of Mormon with Bobby Lopez. <br/>(i.e. some of the musicals I write them seeing haven't been running on broadway in a while and some of them hadn't come out when I write them seeing them)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Also, I am not writing them with the intention of shipping them but if thats how you read it its fine by me.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Intro

**Author's Note:**

> Here's the first chapter!   
> It'll be short since its just an intro!

“Well we knew it was a winner when it was intermission and Matt wasn’t asking to leave” I said with an overly earnest nod.

The audience and the interviewer both burst into laughter.

I turned to Matt in time to see him smirk and look down at his shoes.

Although he was laughing at the same sentence as everyone else, I knew he was laughing at a different joke entirely.

We both knew Matt Stone didn’t _ask_ to leave musicals…

He left.

 


	2. Les Mis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trey and Matt's first stop: Les Mis
> 
> Disclaimer: I am a huge musical theatre nerd so I completely empathize with Trey here.

Matt had been pouting the entire cab drive to the theatre.

“What is it? Did you want to walk?” I poked as the car crawled through Times Square.

“I’d rather blow that street Elmo than go see this fucking musical.”

“That’s not saying much.”

“Fuck you.”

“Oh come on! This is the first time we’ve been to New York in a while and Les Mis is a classic.”

“I haven’t been to San Fran in a while either… maybe I should go and take a dive off the Golden Gate.”

“We don’t have to pay for the tickets so don’t get your Yarmulke in a twist; Eric’s wife got stomach flu so he gave us his.”

“Lucky her…”

“Well I for one am excited. I haven’t seen a Broadway musical in ages.”

“Oh shit!” He jumped as he patted down his pockets.

“Please don’t say you left your wallet in the restaurant.” I sighed.

“Shut up Trey! Crap! Where are they?” He looked ready to panic.

“What is it?” I asked, my own concern beginning to rise.

His eyes were filled with worry as he turned to me.

“Don’t freak out but I think we left your Playgirls in the hotel room!”

With that comment, he deadpanned, crossed his arms, and continued glaring out the window.

The driver started giggling while rolled my eyes and sank into my seat.

“You're a fucking five year old.” I spat.

I couldn’t blame him for being less than stoked. Live theatre never was Matt’s thing.

Then again, neither was dancing.

Or singing.

When the cab pulled up, I handed the driver a bill and got out.

By the time we made into the theatre, Matt had the glazed look in his eyes that indicated any chance of him having an open mind about this had stayed back in the hotel.

Apparently so had my ability to care because as we approached our seats, my anticipation kept growing. The closer we got to the stage, the wider my smile got.

When we finally reached row D, Matt smirked.

“Oh look Trey, it’s your favorite!”

“Bite me Matt!” I responded in a sing-song voice because HOLY SHIT we were sitting four rows away from the stage!

As we sat down I was buzzing with anticipation. The feeling of being back in the theatre was incredible. The stage, the people, the theatre décor, the glow-

-of Matt’s cellphone.

“Umm what are you doing?”

“Candy Crush” he answered without looking up.

“Cut it out. You can’t have your phone out in here.”

“The show hasn’t started.”

“It’s rude.”

“Aren’t rules meant to be broken?”

He managed to look up long enough to waggle his eyebrows for that one.

“Matt…”

“Fine fine.” He raised his hands in mock defense.

“It’s gone.” He added, dropping the device into his coat pocket.

“Thank you.” I sighed.

As I looked back towards the stage my mind clicked back into theatre mode; it was just me, the playbills, the music, the sound-

-of Matt clicking his tongue.

“Are you serious?”

“What do you want me to do? I'm bored out of my mind here.”

“Give my balls a lick.” I grumbled.

“Excuse me?”

“I said give the Playbill a look.”

“Right…”

“And then suck a cock.” I added under my breath.

“What?!”

“I said try not to talk.” I responded with a slight smirk.

“You're not funny.”

He sounded annoyed but I could see the smile starting on his face.

As the lights went down he leaned over and pinched my arm.

“Ow you jackass!” I whispered somewhat loudly.

Evidently it was too loudly because the lady to my left glared and gave the universal sign to “SHH!”

“God Trey…” Matt murmured.

A kick to his shin was enough for me to feel satisfied as the music began.

 

*                                  *                                  *

_“One day more!”_

The audience erupted in applause as the curtain fell and the lights rose.

As enthralled as I was with the performance, I took a peek to see Matt’s reaction-

-and was greeted by an empty seat.

I spotted him on his way out of the row.

“Hey its only intermission!” I called.

“I know.” He responded, not stopping as he maneuvered through people.

He always had been good at beating others to the concessions.

“Can you get me a coke?”

“Sure. It’ll be waiting for you back in the room.”

Perfect. I preferred to stay in my seat anyw- wait! Did he just say “back in the room”?

Oh no. Nonononono.

“Matt!” I called as I bolted from my seat and shoved my way past some very disgruntled patrons of the arts.

I spotted him giving the doorman a nod on his way out of the theatre.

I rushed after him and, once I was outside this time, called out.

“Matt! Hold up!”

He kept walking.

I continued to curse under my breath as I caught up to him.

“Hey dipshit! If you leave the theatre, there’s a chance they won’t let you back in.” I scolded once I was next to him.

“That’s kind of the point.” He commented without missing a step.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I challenged as I clamored to keep up.

“It means that I didn’t want to see the stupid thing but you did so I sat through half of it before the thought came upon me that if you want to see it so bad you can stay and see it. I think that’s a fair compromise considering you get exactly what you want and I lost an hour of my life.” He said, keeping the same, bored tone the entire time.

“You hated it?” I asked, stopping in my tracks.

This time he stopped as well and turned to me with an exasperated expression.

“Yes Trey. I hated it. I know you were excited and all but come on! It’s like ‘boo fucking hoo the economy sucks’ and ‘boo fucking hoo there’s no justice for the poor’. If I wanted to hear that I could just turn on CNN, it’s free at the hotel. And the music was okay but once you’ve heard the overture you’ve heard it all.”

I stood there dumbfounded.

How could anyone hate Les Mis?

“Look man, I'm sorry for being a dick about it but I just don’t care to sit through that. I'm going to go back to the hotel but you should go back and enjoy the show. I’ll make sure to have your coke in the fridge.” He sighed.

And with that, he walked off down 44th street.

After staring after him for a few seconds, I trudged back to the theatre.

“Your friend coming back too?” The man at the door asked when I presented him with my ticket.

“Oh uh… no. No he had to head back.” I responded, thrown off a bit.

As I sat down and the lights started to dim again, I vowed to find at least one musical that Matt wouldn’t want to walk out of.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some clarifications:  
> Matt's "street elmo" comment is in reference to the people who dress up like Elmo and stand in Times Square to take pictures with (and occasionally punch) people.  
> Yarmulke = the actual spelling of what most of us would call a yamaka (its the little hat jewish people wear)  
> Playgirls = like playboy but for girls or gay guys  
> 44th street is in regard to the theatre Les Mis was playing at in 2006 (which is after they began writing BOM but whatever
> 
> Leave me comments and kudos to let me know what you think.  
> I will try to update as often as possible :)


End file.
